Fallen Blade
by SpazKit
Summary: When a guardian falls, his comrades help him. A comfort story of Auron, Jecht and Braska. Not romantic, not yaoi.


A brief look at Auron, Braska and Jecht's relationships. I am not trying to do a romance here, rather more of comfort thing. Not yaoi.  
  
  
  
Fallen Blade  
  
  
  
"Brace yourself!" Cried Auron as the dammed chocobo-eater rammed them yet again. Beside him, Jecht cursed, his blade held defensively. The trio was having a hell of a time trying to beat the fiend back. It's powerful attacks were wearing on the three, their high potions depleted and Braska's magic dangerously low. They groaned in unison as the powerful monster pushed them back yet again, kicking up clouds of dust. Heaving, Auron glanced behind them. They were on the brink of a large cliff, it's edge mere footsteps away. Failure was not an option here, for the guardian was not going to allow his lord and charge to fall. Period.  
  
Jecht launched himself at the beast, slashing with his heavy sword. His scarred skin moved smoothly over his muscles as he heaved his weight into his attack. Behind him, Braska struggled to heal himself, having received a nasty wound to his leg. Auron used his guard ability to protect the summoner as best he could.  
  
Jecht fell back, panting. The fiend's massive jaws opened, his twin tongues spraying hideous saliva everywhere, along with the few drops of rain that began to fall from the darkening sky. The ugly monster reached out a scaled arm and forcefully knocked Jecht to the dusty ground. The Blitzball player cursed again, spewing the dirt from his mouth as he struggled to his feet.  
  
Tensing, Auron slid his blade from his shoulder, steadily moving to attack the enemy. Then, in a quick burst of movement, the ex-monk's defined arm took his blade in hand and slashed his sword into the thing's side, his scarlet coat flashing in the fiend's vision. His boots kicked up dust with perseverance as he continued his assault on the beast, allowing Braska the chance to heal himself and Jecht. The fiend howled in rage as his blade slashed at it's armored sides. Hair trailing, Auron fell back to his comrade's sides.  
  
But they were too late. The fiend roared again, and slammed itself into the party of three. Before they could realize their fate, Braska, Auron and Jecht toppled over the side of the cliff, falling to the gorge bottom below.  
  
They landed amongst trees, rock and more rock. Jecht was the first to move, groaning as he stood. Braska was entangled in several bushes, and Jecht moved to go help the summoner free himself from the thorns sticking to his elaborate cloak. Auron remained down momentarily, grasping his head in his hands. A few feet away, his blade, sticking into the ground, fell.  
  
"Well, that was enlightening," mused Braska, smiling towards Jecht as he was untangled from the bush.  
  
"Well, I, uh, I think we should go back an' kick it's sorry ass," grumbled Jecht, unhappy that they had been forced into the gorge. Any second, Jecht fully expected Auron to start hammering on him, angered that it had been his idea to fight the beast in the first place. But the scolding never came. Braska also noticed his guardian's silence.  
  
Free from the confines of the wildlife, Braska looked towards his friend to find Auron leaning heavily against the rock formation lining the cliff. His head was down, hiding his face. Normally, the swordsman would be literally attacking him to see if his summoner was all right, heckling Braska until he found no injury. It concerned Braska that his guardian remained silent.  
  
Moving to Auron's front side, Braska noticed his guardian's labored breathing, his leather shirt's gold etchings stretching to accommodate the enlarged lung span its host was using. Deeply concerned now, the summoner brought a hand to Auron's bare arm. Auron raised his head slowly, his heavy eyelids meeting Braska's eyes. His face was covered in blood as it ran down his face, mingling with the falling rain. "My… lord…" whispered Auron faintly as his muscular form careened and faltered. Braska gasped in horror as his guardian's eyes closed as he fell. The summoner grasped Auron's arms as the swordsman fell to his knees, his head drooping into Braska's chest lifelessly.  
  
Jecht appeared behind Auron, amused expression turning darker. Braska looked up at his guardian, cradling Auron in his arms. "Wha' happened?" Braska knelt to the dampening ground, easing the massive weight of his guardian down with him. Auron's strong body slid limply to the gorge floor, his bloody head supported by the summoner's thighs. Auron's hand felt limply to his side.  
  
Braska shook his head. "The fall? I do not believe his was injured like this from the battle…" Jecht moved silently to Auron's side, placing a large hand to the unconscious man's neck, taking a pulse. Then, the hand found it's way to Auron's head, as it swept the raven hair aside to reveal a large gash. Braska swallowed thickly at the sight. "I do not have enough magic to help him. Nor do I carry any potions."  
  
Rain was falling heavily now, mixing with red as it dripped down Auron's expressionless face, sliding down his closed eyes and bare neck. Jecht sighed. "We need to get em' out of the storm. Pneumonia ain't gonna help. Look over there," pointed Jecht, motioning towards a small alcove near the end of the gorge. "It'll be drier in there. Maybe we can make a fire." Braska nodded in agreement. Jecht gently took Auron's arm, slinging it over his head and lifted the unconscious man upwards. Braska rose as well, hands on the powerful chest of his fallen friend, helping Jecht keep his balance. Vertical now, Braska took Auron's other clothed arm and slid in over his head. Together, the two dragged the incredibly heavy body towards the alcove as a flash of lightning streaked the sky.  
  
Grunting, Jecht let Auron go once they had made it to the sanctuary of the alcove. Braska guided the swordsman's body gently to the ground, resting Auron's head in the folds of his cloak. Auron's face dripped with rain, his smooth skin chilled. As thunder shook the rock around them, Braska prayed his dear friend would be all right.  
  
Grumbling, Jecht quickly built a fire just beside the edge of the cave, so the smoke would billow outward. As the heat of flame licked the stone walls, Jecht returned to Braska's side. The bliztball player took a moment to study the strange view of Auron before him. The strong willed and strong-bodied guardian was spread before the fire. His head rested in Braska's arms, his face even in unconsciousness. Jecht had never seen the man so utterly… helpless. Normally it was Auron who was threatening to take Jecht's life if he insulted himself or Braska again.  
  
"Come," spoke Braska, jolting Jecht out of his evaluation. "Help me."  
  
They slowly removed the belt and red cloak in silence. Had he been awake, Auron would wring his neck for removing the jug of sake from his side. Jecht smirked at the thought. Braska took great effort to lift Auron's sculpted back, allowing Jecht to remove the soaking wet shirt. As the muscular body slid back to the ground, Jecht dropped the leather next to their pack, and weeded through the remaining supplies. Behind him, he heard Braska murmuring softly to Auron, trying to comfort the fallen monk, regardless if Auron could even hear it. Retrieving the bandages and water, Jecht returned to Braska's side.  
  
"Here, hold him still."  
  
Braska was amazed at Jecht as the gruff man gently removed the loosened strands of hair from Auron's pale face, his thumb brushing over his eyelids. He gingerly inspected the wound, causing Auron's damp body to twitch. Giving Braska a warning glance, Jecht applied pressure to the wound, laying the bandage down. Auron groaned, his muscles rippling, his back arching slightly. Braska grasped Auron's cold hand, squeezing. Jecht finished bandaging his head, and continued to rummage through the pack. Braska leaned backwards, his robes cushioning his back against the stone wall, Auron's head still in his lap.  
  
Finding the blanket, Jecht sighed, relinquishing the comfort and warmth to the body on the floor. It covered only part of Auron's body, from boots to mid chest. Still, it was better than nothing.  
  
They sat in silence, staring into the fire for some time. Thunder rumbled overhead, and outside the grass and trees swayed in the wind as they were pelted in rain. Braska almost didn't hear the soft moan escape Auron's lips. Looking down, he watched as Auron's eyebrows lowered, his head moving weakly to its side, his cheek supported by the soft cloth of Braska's cloak. Obviously taking great effort, Auron's eyes opened a crack.  
  
"Mnn… lord…" he groaned, barely audible in the storm. To him, the world was blurry and painful, and he was confused as to why he felt this way. Braska continued to grasp his hand, and his other gently touched Auron's face. Wincing, Auron attempted to lift his head, perhaps rise. Braska placed his palm to Auron's brick hard chest, forcing him back.  
  
"Hold," murmured the summoner, easing his guardian back as Auron continued to resist, attempting again to rise. Braska gently placed his hand over Auron's eyes, forcing them shut. "…Rest," he whispered, watching his friend battle unconsciousness. After a full five minutes, Auron gave in to the warmth of the blanket and weight of his eyelids as they slid shut.  
  
  
  
  
  
The following morning, Auron woke slowly, hid head throbbing. He was atop Braska's lap, his face buried in the soft folds of his cloak. What in Yevon?  
  
Across from him, Jecht snored. All right, that was no surprise but why was his aching head on Braksa's lap? Damn… he could not remember the previous night. Oh dear gods, please let him have been sober. Please.  
  
He winced, raising a toned arm to his head. Wait. His fingers came in contact with a bandage covering his hairline. What had happened? He attempted to rise, but immediately the world began to spin, as his head seemed to explode into a vast array of color. Suddenly, he felt hands on his shoulderblades, easing him back to the ground. He forced his eyes open, regardless of the pain. Braska was staring at him. A comforting hand found his injured head, resting on his brow. The simple touch seemed to ease his pain.  
  
The sound of falling rain eased his mind. The feel of cloth under his head eased his body and the combination worked like an anesthetic as he was lulled to darkness.  
  
  
  
  
  
Later that day, Jecht was half-dragging the other guardian up the gorge, back to the travel agency so that they might heal their friend's wound. Only partially conscious, Auron occasionally would mumble something having no relevancy to anything, then his eyes would slide shut and he'd simply stumble along. Jecht begged Braska to lend him a sphere, it would be wonderful blackmail. Braska only chuckled, but kept on.  
  
Pausing, Braska realized they were passing the spot where they had landed. There, tipped on its side, was Auron's mighty blade, dusty and bloody. Braska knelt and wiped the blood away, cradling the blade in his lap. A nasty scratch imbedded itself it the blade's handle. Auron would not be pleased. Regardless, he took the blade in his arms, resting it against his shoulder. Blade or guardian, he would watch over them both until they were ready to move on.  
  
  
  
  
  
*** scary story written at 4:35 am. Wheeeee.  
  
-spazkit 


End file.
